


Hope That Starts the Broken Hearts

by idoltina



Series: Breakeven [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Explicit Language, F/F, Frottage, Gen, Homophobia, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:23:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idoltina/pseuds/idoltina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt finally starts a local chapter of PFLAG and with the particular members he gets to join up, let's just say things get sufficiently awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting One

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings (if any):** Language, homophobia, mentions of sex, light frottage

**6 September 2011: Meeting One**

“I got enough cheese and crackers for eight people. Do you think that's enough?” Kurt asks as he busies himself rearranging the various crackers on a plate.

“I'm sure it's plenty,” Blaine says gently, smiling at his boyfriend in amusement.

“I just don't want people to go hungry. Besides, what kind of meeting is it if it doesn't have bagels or snacks or _something_ \--”

“Kurt,” Blaine laughs, tugging his boyfriend away from the small fold-up table, “it'll be fine.”

Kurt settles into his arms, pouting, but his expression quickly changes from annoyance to worry. “Do you think anyone will come?” he asks quietly.

Blaine's experience makes him want to say 'no,' but instead he opts for, “You made a deal, right? You wouldn't out him if he came to the meetings.”

“I wouldn't out him in the first place,” Kurt argues, but the point still remains. “Do you think he'll actually show up?”

“I think he's too afraid not to,” Blaine says honestly. “He doesn't want to come out. At all.” Kurt nods but still refuses to meet Blaine's gaze and it breaks Blaine a little, watching his boyfriend hope and and try to help and just plain _want_. He uses his fingers to tilt Kurt's head up to look at him. “Look at it this way. If he doesn't show up and it's just you and me, that's not a bad thing.”

“It's not?”

“No,” Blaine says with a grin. “That means more time for us to make out.”

“You're awful,” Kurt laughs, batting at Blaine's shoulder.

“You love me,” Blaine hums, leaning in. Kurt _hmms_ in response and lets Blaine kiss him, soft and tentative at first but more eager after a minute, tongues gliding and hands grabbing at faces and waists --

“Um.”

They break apart abruptly, both turning to face the source of the noise, and find David Karofsky standing in the doorway of the second floor board room. “You came,” Kurt says breathlessly.

“Yeah,” David says shortly. “Sorry I'm late. I know where the campus is but I've never been in this section before...”

“That's okay,” Kurt allows, still breathless. “Um, come in, sit down, we'll --” He starts to gesture toward the small circle of chairs set up in the center of the room and then looks down at his hand to find it smeared with gouda. “What --” He looks down and behind him at the table Blaine's got him pressed against and blushes; Blaine leans his head against Kurt's shoulder and starts to chuckle quietly. Kurt scowls and picks up a paper napkin to clean off his hand, but when they start to cross the room to join David at the chairs, he offers Blaine a smile.

“So how long's this thing gonna go?” David asks after a moment.

“Oh, I, um --” The color leaves Kurt's face and he wrings his hands nervously, visibly flustered. Blaine narrows his eyes at David and reaches over to take Kurt's hand. Tension visibly leaves Kurt's body at Blaine's touch; he inhales and meets David's gaze. “However long you want, I suppose. It's just us. So I guess... I guess it's really for you. If you have any questions or anything.”

David's jaw sets firmly and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair, arms folded over his chest. It's obvious to Blaine that David doesn't want to be here, that he's not going to offer information up freely or ask questions, and that pisses Blaine off. He knows Kurt doesn't want to push -- he doesn't either, not really -- but Kurt is so _earnest_ and eager to help; it's a hell of a lot for him to offer, makes Kurt the bigger person -- which Kurt would never own up to or agree with -- and David is just sitting there _shutting down_ \--

“Why are you here?” Blaine asks bluntly.

Both boys look at him in surprise. “Blaine,” Kurt says quietly, eyes wrinkled in confusion.

“Kurt's going out of his way to help you here, and I think we all know no one else is showing up,” Blaine says. “So if you're not going to ask any questions, maybe you can answer some of mine.”

“You know why I'm here,” David says, arms unfolding a little. “Hum -- Kurt said I had to come if I wanted his transfer to go smoothly.”

Blaine sighs. “Would you have made him come next meeting, if he hadn't shown up tonight?” he asks, turning to face Kurt.

“I --” Kurt squeaks, looking between them. David stares at him curiously, and after a moment, Kurt looks down at his and Blaine's joined hands and says quietly, “No.”

Blaine looks back to David. “See? So really, you're here of your own volition. And I think you still owe him. So if you're going to stay, it'd be nice if you'd start talking. Because as Kurt said, we're here for you.”

Kurt looks over at him gratefully, but it's still several long, silent, awkward moments before anyone says anything again. Finally, Kurt sighs, squeezes Blaine's hand, and starts to rise from his chair. “I guess we should just go home --”

“How do you deal with it?” Both boys look over at David abruptly, eyebrows raised. “How did you -- when did you know? _How_ did you know?”

There's a moment when they meet each others' eyes, and then, still holding hands, they sit back down. Kurt draws in a breath and tries to smile reassuringly. “I was five,” he says quietly. “And I'd always been a little... different from other boys. Well, obviously,” he says, grinning. Blaine matches him. “But right before school let out for the summer, there was a boy --”

“What was his name?” Blaine asks.

Kurt bites his lip. “Andrew Masters,” he says sheepishly. “Blonde and a beautiful smile and one of the nicer people in our class. He was _beautiful_ \--”

“Can we not dwell on Andrew?” Blaine mutters.

Kurt laughs and pats Blaine's cheek lightly. “It was a short-lived crush. We started first grade in the fall and he turned into a total dolt. But I knew, then. I knew I liked boys. Maybe I knew before then,” he owns. “But that was when I _knew_.”

Blaine looks to David, whose expression is mostly reserved and blank, and takes that as his cue. “I was twelve,” Blaine offers. “Not as fortunate as Kurt --”

“Depends on how you look at it,” Kurt mutters.

“You've known who you are for a long time,” Blaine says. “I envy that. You _know_ that.” Kurt looks at him, eyes shining, and reaches a hand over to rub Blaine's knee. “I had a friend. We grew up together. I had my suspicions for a while, but the summer before eighth grade, things between us... changed. So I took a chance and I kissed him.”

“Always making the first move, aren't you?” Kurt teases affectionately.

“Not soon enough, in some cases,” Blaine counters quietly, and Kurt blushes.

“So what happened?” It's the first time David's spoken in a while and it catches them both off guard, interrupting the moment. “With the guy you kissed?”

“He, um... didn't take it so well,” Blaine chuckles darkly. Kurt casts him a sympathetic look but Blaine shakes his head. “Oh no, he was gay. Definitely gay. Or at least bi. But I don't think he'd really come to terms with it the way I was starting to... He kind of freaked out. We didn't really talk after that.”

“I'm sorry,” Kurt says quietly. “That's -- I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Blaine says. “At the very least, it affirmed the whole gay thing for me.” He turns to look at David expectantly, but David's arms tuck in uncomfortably and Blaine knows he's not sharing. “Is that all?” he asks.

Before David can answer, Kurt pushes himself off of his chair and brushes off his jeans. “I'm going to use the restroom,” he announces. “Take some time to think about it.”

At the doorway, though, he stops and turns around to look at Blaine, offering something somewhere between a silent apology and a request of encouragement. Once he's out of the room, Blaine leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Look,” he starts, his voice low. David's eyes widen. “I know you're uncomfortable. I think it's obvious that there's a... tension here,” he says, choosing his words carefully.

“Be honest, man,” David huffs out, scooting down in his chair. “You hate my guts.”

Blaine's mouth thins into a line. “I don't see us becoming best friends any time soon,” he says, still fighting to be diplomatic. “But I've been where you've been. I know what this is like.”

“You didn't do what I did,” David says, and his voice is so quiet that Blaine has to fight to hear him. “You didn't -- what I did to Kurt...”

“No,” Blaine says simply. “I didn't. I was actually on the other end of that.” David raises his eyebrows and Blaine doesn't know _why_ , what even possesses him to do it, because he doesn't share easily at _all_. But something tells him that if this is going to go anywhere, he has to start talking too. “What you did to Kurt... I hate that you did it. I _hate_ it. And what he went through, that's -- I don't trivialize it at all. But it could've been so much worse. He -- you didn't...” Blaine tapers off and suddenly he _can't_ talk.

But Blaine thinks of Kurt, closes his eyes, swallows, and draws back his sleeve. When Blaine extends his arm, David looks hesitant to move at all, but slowly, he leans forward and looks down at the jagged scar extending from the underside of Blaine's arm, right above his wrist all the way past his elbow. “Jesus,” David hisses.

“One on my back, two more on my leg,” Blaine says, pulling his sleeve down again. “But I know what it's like to feel alone... And the whole point of this is that you're not.”

David leans back in his chair but not nearly as far as before, and Blaine recognizes the change. “He wants me to come out,” David says abruptly. “Your -- Kurt. He wants me to come out. And I can't. _I can't do that_ ,” he implores, leaning back toward Blaine a little.

“No one's going to make you,” Blaine assures him. “I know -- look, I know that's what Kurt wants. He doesn't want to be the only out kid at that school. But have you considered -- Kurt told you he doesn't believe in outing.”

“Well, yeah,” David says, shrugging uncomfortably. “Before he came back, he said that. But --”

“But he wanted you to come to these meetings,” Blaine finishes for him. “So that you would be comfortable enough to do it on your own some day. But that principle -- we still believe that, both of us. We're not going to out you. And the sooner you actually believe that, the easier this is going to be.”

David sits for a long time, staring at Blaine, but then finally exhales, long and slow. “Why are you doing this?” he asks. “Why -- why are you trying to help me?”

Blaine fidgets with his hands and looks down at his feet. “Kurt wants to help you.”

“You -- you really care...” There's a moment's hesitation that causes Blaine to look up questioningly. “You're really in love with him, then.”

Blaine blinks, surprised. And then he remembers that part of the reason the guy sitting in front of him tormented his boyfriend is because he didn't know how to deal with his sexuality, is attracted to boys, must have been -- was -- attracted to Kurt. He _kissed_ \-- assaulted Kurt. And it occurs to Blaine in that moment that maybe David wasn't quite over... whatever it was he'd felt. Or maybe, at the very least, he's jealous. And Blaine is filled with something not unlike... Well, he's not sure. He doesn't want to say he feels possessive, but there's a sudden need in his veins to stake a claim, to draw a line in the sand...

“Yeah,” he says clearly. “I am. Took me awhile to get there but I'm not going anywhere. Not unless he sends me away.”

“He won't.” Blaine arches an eyebrow and David sits up a little straighter, still obviously uncomfortable but a little... braver. “I -- you should see the way he looks at you, man. And from what I walked in on...” He colors and looks away awkwardly.

Blaine relaxes a little, though. He may not ever really warm to David, but he understands, at least, why Kurt wants to help him. He sees what Kurt sees. He sees someone who just wants to get out, someone who just... _wants_. And he's too afraid to do even that. “Come back, in two weeks,” Blaine says. “You can even bring someone, if you want --” David's eyes widen and Blaine backtracks. “If you want,” he repeats. “Sometimes it helps to have someone in your corner. But Kurt and I will be here, if you have any more questions. And --”

Kurt walks back into the room and both boys lean back in their chairs quickly. It doesn't escape Kurt's notice. “Is... everything okay?” Kurt asks tentatively, glancing between them.

“Fine,” Blaine says amicably. “We were just wrapping things up.”

“Oh,” Kurt says falteringly. “So, so you don't --” He looks at David hopefully.

“I'm good,” he says gruffly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his Letterman’s jacket. “He -- your b -- Anderson,” he decides finally. “Anderson was just saying you're doing this again in a couple weeks.”

“Um, that was the plan,” Kurt says slowly, surveying them suspiciously. “But if you don't have any questions --”

“I d -- I don't know,” David amends. “But I'll come, next time. At least for the free food.”

Kurt's mouth twists in an attempt not to laugh but he nods stiffly and lets David pass him to the door. “Karofsky,” Blaine calls after him. David turns slightly at the door. “What's said here stays here.”

Karofsky's nose wrinkles a little. “Like Vegas?”

Blaine laughs a little. “Like Vegas.”

Once David leaves the room, Kurt moves to Blaine. “What did you say to him?” he asks.

“Not much,” Blaine says. “Just that he should come back. That what you're offering is real.”

“I'm sure he got that,” Kurt says wryly. “You said something that changed his mind about this, made him more comfortable...”

“I didn't spill my deepest darkest secrets,” Blaine says, and it's mostly true; he managed to tell Karofsky about the dance without exactly _telling_ him much of anything. “But I think I get why you wanna help him.”

Kurt smiles at him. “I love you,” he says softly. Blaine laughs but Kurt bats his arm and wraps his arms around Blaine's neck. “No, I'm serious. You're like, the perfect boyfriend.”

“Not perfect,” Blaine reminds him, but he settles his hands at Kurt's hips with a smile.

“You're going to kiss me again, aren't you?” Kurt muses.

“Yes,” Blaine breathes, leaning in a little.

“Keep away from the cheese,” Kurt warns, and Blaine's laughing as his lips press against Kurt's.


	2. Meeting Two

**20 September 2011: Meeting Two**

“No, it's in the Public Service Building -- how the hell should I know what that means? It's just the name --”

“Who is he talking to?” Kurt mutters as he sets out the last of the napkins.

“I don't know,” Blaine admits. “But it sounds like he's trying to direct someone here.”

“You think he's bringing someone?” Kurt asks incredulously. “I can't see him doing that.”

“Well,” Blaine says slowly, “I might have mentioned something about it last time.” When Kurt raises an eyebrow, Blaine hastens to explain. “I just said it'd be nice if he brought someone with him for support. I was talking about his dad or something, but it doesn't sound like that's who he's talking to --”

“I highly doubt it,” Kurt says in a clipped tone, but then he softens and adds, “If he's comfortable enough to bring them here, it's got to be someone who knows, or someone he can at least coerce into --”

“Sorry about that,” David says as he walks back into the room. “I never thought I'd be the one useful with directions.”

“I didn't realize you'd extended an invitation,” Kurt says.

“I -- is that not okay?” David says slowly. “I mean, Anderson said --”

“No, it's okay,” Kurt assures him. “I just... I guess I'm surprised, is all.”

David barely has time to react to that before a drawling voice floats across the room from the doorway. “This looks familiar.”

All three turn to find Santana standing in the doorway, biting a nail absent-mindedly. “Santana,” Blaine says brightly. “Still armed with razorblades?”

“You know it,” she says, grinning back at him. “Hey you,” she adds, crossing the room and leaning up to kiss Kurt on the cheek.

Kurt blinks. “Santana... what are you _doing_ here?”

“I invited her,” David interjects. Santana glares at him. “What? I did!” he says defensively.

“Whatever,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “If it's just us, I figured it didn't matter. But Hummel, a tip? Next time, bring booze and some poker chips because I can _not_ do this sober.”

Kurt's brow furrows but Blaine actually laughs out loud. “It's not _that_ much like Vegas.”

“Okay, let's just... sit,” Kurt cuts in with a huff, “before I decide that _I_ can't do this sober.”

“You hate alcohol,” Blaine points out.

“Exactly,” Kurt throws back, settling into a chair.

“So how does this work?” Santana says the second they sit down. “Because if we're going to sit around and talk about our feelings, I'm out. You're lucky I didn't see any jicama on that table.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Kurt groans. “Santana, just -- _no_. Why are you here? What do you think this is? What are you trying to get out of this?”

Santana narrows her eyes. “Can we just skip this part?” she drones. “Because I'm not about to let you put a label on me.”

Kurt turns away from her, slightly disgruntled but seemingly willing to let it go, when there's a new voice in the doorway. “You said this was a safe place.” All four of them turn to look at Brittany. “You said that's why I should come, because it was safe. They're dolphins,” she adds, gesturing toward Kurt and Blaine. Blaine cocks an eyebrow but Kurt shakes his head as if to say _don't ask_. “And Karofsky -- well, he's not a shark.” Santana meets Brittany's gaze and there are a thousand emotions playing on her face at once, but the one that keeps shining through, the one Blaine keeps noticing, is sheer terror. “'Tana, why can't you just --”

“No,” Santana says fiercely. “Brit, we've been through this. I can't --”

“Can I, then?” Brittany asks. “Can I say it, if you won't?”

Santana looks away from her and closes her eyes, and it's that gesture that makes Blaine speak up. “Just like Vegas,” he reminds her quietly. “What's said here stays here. It doesn't leave this room.”

She looks up at him, trying to gauge the truth in his statement, and then looks from him to Kurt, who nods in agreement. She fidgets uncomfortably, and then finally shrugs her shoulders. “Go ahead, Brit.”

Brittany smiles, full on _smiles_ , and almost bounces as she makes her way over to the circle of chairs. “Santana's Lebanese,” Brittany announces as she plops between Santana and Kurt.

Santana sighs and rolls her eyes. “She means --”

“We know what she means,” Kurt says quietly. “And we figured as much, Santana. It's just... nice if you're honest about why you're here. Nice if you're honest with yourself. You don't have to come out --”

“Boring,” she snaps. “Can we move on?” Brittany looks over at her, confused, and Santana softens a little. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

“I'm sorry I'm late,” Brittany says. “Lord Tubbington isn't good with directions and then he had trouble parking the car. I'm thinking about taking away his license --”

“Brit,” Kurt interjects quickly. “Why don't you say why you're here?”

“Oh,” Brittany says brightly. “Santana told me I should come because I'm bi-curious.”

It's the easiest coming out Blaine's ever heard and really, he shouldn't be _that_ surprised, but Brittany doesn't even seem phased by it, bothered by it, confused by it. She just seems to kind of... accept it. “So...” Blaine says awkwardly.

“So, Tom Ford, Brit and I get our sweet lady kisses on, that's what,” Santana says, clearly exasperated.

Blaine bites back his surprise at the fact that Santana even knows who Tom Ford _is_ and tries to smile encouragingly. “They're _awesome_ ,” Brittany gushes, nodding enthusiastically. And suddenly, her eyes widen and she turns to grab Kurt's arm. “Kurt,” she says seriously. “Does Blaine taste like a theme park?”

“Um, _what_?” Blaine asks, looking between them.

Kurt bursts out laughing. “No, Brit,” he says with a smile, shaking his head. “He doesn't -- actually, no, wait, yeah, he does. But more like... like cotton candy.”

Brittany gasps and stares at Blaine in awe. “That's the _best kind_.”

“Okay, care to fill me in here?” Blaine asks, waving a hand in Kurt's direction.

“Well,” Kurt starts, still laughing, “when I kissed Brittany --”

“Wait, _back up_ ,” Blaine cuts in. “Go back to the part where you were _making out with a girl._ ”

“We weren't really making out,” Kurt says, sighing in exasperation. “It was just kissing -- sufficiently awkward kissing, I'd like to add -- and it was when we were dating --”

“You _dated_?” Blaine asks. “And you gave me grief for _Rachel_?”

“ _I_ still give you grief over dating Rachel,” Santana says. “Honestly, what were you _thinking_ , that you two could start a hobbit convention or something?”

“It wasn't _real_ ,” Kurt sighs, trying to bring the focus back around. “We 'dated' for a week because I was trying to get my dad's attention. It was... stupid. Immature. But the point,” he emphasizes, glaring between Santana and Blaine, silently asking for no more interruptions, “is that while we were kissing, all I could think about was boys. And I asked her what boys tasted like.”

Blaine can't help but smile. “You didn't,” he says, fighting back a laugh.

“He did,” Brittany says helpfully. “And I told him burgers and dip.”

“And I don't,” Blaine says slowly, grinning a little more.

“No,” Kurt laughs, relaxing a little. “You don't. You're a lot better than that.”

“Okay, gross,” Santana interjects. “New subject.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, drawing in a breath. “Normally PFLAG meetings start off with a guest speaker --”

“If I wanted to be put to sleep, Hummel, I'd sit in government class or listen to Mr. Schue give one of his inspiring speeches about acceptance,” Santana says in a bored voice.

“But there as there aren't really that many of us,” Kurt continues through gritted teeth, “I figured we could forgo the formalities for a while. At least... until there are more members.” Blaine reaches over to take his hand.

“So what do we talk about?” Santana starts.

“Wait, where's the flag?” Brittany asks, looking around. “I thought there was supposed to be a flag, you know, with a 'P' on it? Except, I didn't really understand why we were going to sit and talk about a flag --”

“It's not --” Kurt sighs and rubs his fingers over his temple. “I can't -- Blaine?” he asks helplessly, looking to his boyfriend.

“Why don't we start with questions?” Blaine offers. “That seemed to work last time.”

“It did?” Kurt asks. Blaine gives him a look. “It did.”

“What kind of questions?” Brittany asks.

“Well --” Kurt starts.

“Can I ask how you two get your gay on?” Santana drawls. “Because I'm all about that even though I'm a dyke.”

“Hey,” Blaine cuts in. “No. Don't -- we're not okay with derogatory terms. I don't care,” he continues when he sees Santana opening her mouth to protest, “I don't care if you're referring to someone else or yourself. It's not okay, Santana.”

Santana twists her mouth unpleasantly but scoots down in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. “You didn't answer my question, Barney Frank,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Maybe we should just call it a night,” Blaine says forcefully. “We obviously aren't getting anywhere.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, trying to gain control of the chaos. “Look, why don't -- why don't we make a list? Pick topics that we might discuss and then give you the next few weeks to think them over. That way we might actually have a _productive_ meeting next time.” He starts to list off a few topics that, in turn, makes each of them squirm: coming out, parental support, sex education...

Kurt waves a hand to dismiss the like he's waving away an irksome fly, but when the group starts to stand to leave, David shuffles up to the boys. Kurt looks up and blinks, surprised. “That was a good idea,” he offers.

“What was a good idea?” Kurt asks, crossing his legs and settling a hand on Blaine's. Blaine smiles at the gesture.

“Giving people time to think,” David clarifies. “I app -- it's nice, I guess.”

“Oh,” Kurt says, relaxing a little. “Well, you're welcome, I guess. I just -- this wasn't going anywhere tonight, so...”

“Yeah, well. I'll think about stuff. See you.”

Kurt huffs out as David leaves the room. “I don't get him sometimes.”

“You get him better than I do,” Blaine laughs.

“No, but...” Kurt sighs in frustration. “He didn't even _say_ anything tonight --”

“That's not the point of this,” Blaine reminds him gently. “The point is to provide an environment. He might not do much talking for a long time.”

“Maybe not,” Kurt concedes, rising to clean up the tables. Blaine joins him but keeps his gaze trained on Santana and Brittany who are still huddled close in the circle, talking quietly. Brittany leans forward after a few minutes and presses a feather-light kiss to Santana's cheek. And Santana, amazingly, _blushes_ , smiles, and nods at something Brittany says before the blonde crosses the room to join the boys at the snack table. “Hey Brit,” Kurt greets.

“Hi,” she says brightly. “Thanks for letting us come.”

“You're always welcome,” Blaine says with a smile.

“I think 'Tana and I are gonna come back,” she muses. “But can I ask you something, Kurt?”

“Sure,” Kurt says amicably.

“Can I take home the leftover cheese?”

“Um, sure?” Kurt says, handing her the plate.

“Thanks,” Brittany says with a smile. “Lord Tubbington is still on Atkins and this will really help. See you tomorrow, Kurt. Bye, Blaine!” she says cheerfully, hugging them both. Santana meets her at the door and before they leave, Brittany extends her hand for Santana to take. And Santana, after a moment's hesitation, smiles and takes it.

Blaine knows it's a small gesture and he understands _why_ Santana is doing this here, now: the college campus is empty and it's dark outside; it's unlikely that they'll meet anyone on their way to the parking lot, but... “See?” Blaine points out, resting his chin on Kurt's shoulder. “This is a good thing. Even if no one comes out before graduation, this is helping.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says distractedly, smiling widely and settling back against Blaine, watching the spot the girls have just vacated. “It's nice that they feel safe here.”


	3. Meeting Three

**4 October 2011: Meeting Three**

Blaine finishes spreading out the rest of the PFLAG brochures and starts to unpack the new boxes of crackers when Kurt finally makes his way into the room. “I'm sorry I'm late,” he says breathlessly. “Last minute change of plans,” he explains, leaning in to kiss Blaine lightly.

“It's okay,” Blaine says with a smile, handing Kurt another box. “What happened?”

“Well --” Kurt starts.

“Hey, kiddo!” Blaine looks up to see Burt Hummel walking through the doorway, a grin plastered on his face.

“Hi!” Blaine laughs, setting the box down and walking over to greet him. “I didn't know you were coming.”

“Kurt asked me to at the last minute, said it'd be helpful,” Burt explains, drawing Blaine into a warm hug. “So what is all this?” he asks, gesturing to the table of leaflets.

“Information,” Kurt says, setting out the last sample of cheese. “About PFLAG, a few other things.”

“Lots of pamphlets,” Burt says with a grin. “Think I should pick any of them up?” he teases Kurt.

“Be my guest,” Kurt laughs. “I've read them all.”

“Mr. Hummel!” The three of them turn to find Brittany and Santana entering the room. Santana sidles up to Blaine as Kurt busies himself unfolding chairs, and Brittany rushes to hug Kurt's father. “Ar -e you okay? Is your heart okay? I know Kurt got my card, but after the wedding, I just wanted to make sure-”

“I'm fine, Brittany,” Burt laughs, but he's smiling at her fondly and it occurs to Blaine that if Kurt were straight, she might actually be in his position right now.

“She made him a card when he had a heart attack last year,” Santana explains quietly, “that said heart attacks are just from loving too much.”

Blaine looks from Brittany to Santana and something inside of him clicks. “It's why you love her,” Blaine says quietly. “She looks at the world and sees _good_.”

It's a moment before Santana can manage to tear her gaze away, and when she does, she lowers it to the floor. “She's not like you and me,” she says just as quietly. “She's not so... tainted.” Blaine wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion, but Santana doesn't even look at him. Slowly, she brings her hand up and lightly traces a finger over the jagged scar on Blaine's arm; he inhales sharply as she does, and then her hand travels back down and links their hands together. “I know things. Sometimes I know too much.”

She holds his hand for a brief moment and then lets go, switching places with Kurt in the center of the room. “Everything okay?” Kurt asks gently, taking up Blaine's hand in Santana's absence.

“Yeah,” Blaine breathes. “I -- can we keep doing this?”

“What, holding hands?” Kurt laughs.

“Well, that too,” Blaine concurs, squeezing Kurt's hand. “But I meant the meetings. I think they're starting to make a difference.”

“Really?” Kurt says, still laughing. “Because if the last two are evidence of anything --”

“I just got Santana to talk to me. Like, actually _talk_ to me,” Blaine says. “I don't think she would've done that if she hadn't come last time. If your dad weren't here. If Brittany weren't here.”

“I see your point,” Kurt concedes.

“Why'd you ask your dad to come?” Blaine questions, turning to settle his arms on Kurt's shoulders.

“Well -- two steps that way, away from the cheese,” Kurt instructs, marching a laughing Blaine away from the snack table. Settling his hands at Blaine's waist, he continues, “I thought it'd be helpful. I was --” Kurt tapers off as David walks into the room, hands stuffed deep in his Letterman’s jacket. Burt raises an eyebrow but doesn't say much else. Kurt inhales and nods toward the chairs. “Let's start, okay? I'll explain more.”

The six of them attendance -- doubled from the first meeting -- take their seats and Kurt begins. “You all know him, but this is my dad, Burt Hummel,” Kurt introduces. Burt holds up a hand in acknowledgment. “Last week I suggested that maybe we talk about coming out -- what your experiences were like, why you have or haven't, things like that -- and parental support. And we don't always see things clearly, or the way that our parents do. So I thought it'd be nice to have that perspective here.” The Hummels exchange a smile, but the tension in the rest of the room is palpable. “So... does anyone want to start?”

“Did you know?” Blaine looks over at David in surprise. He hadn't really participated at all the week before and now he's the first one to speak, the first one to start asking questions. Blaine can't figure it out. When all eyes turn to stare at him, though, David seems to lose a little of his resolve and shrinks back into his chair. “Did you, um... Did you know Kurt was...”

“Gay?” Burt finishes dryly. “Yeah, I did. I think I knew before he did, honestly --”

“Oh, are we really going to revisit this?” Kurt asks in an exasperated tone.

“Revisit what?” Santana asks with intrigue, leaning forward onto her knees.

“For my third birthday --” Kurt starts to recite in a bored voice.

“Hey, are you gonna let me tell the story?” Burt asks, faking offense. Kurt rolls his eyes and waves a hand but smiles a little anyway. “All he wanted for his third birthday was a pair of sensible heels.”

David bites his lip and Blaine can tell he's fighting not to laugh, a courtesy Santana doesn't show. She doubles over immediately. Brittany, as always, has a perplexing response. “Well, Kurt's smart,” she says reasonably. “It's hard to walk in stilettos. I didn't learn until I was seven --”

“But,” Burt interjects, smiling good-naturedly at Brittany, “if you wanna look at outside of the stereotype, then yeah, I think I still knew. He never talked about crushes or girls or anything else. I think he was afraid to talk about the way he felt about boys.”

“I was,” Kurt admits quietly. “But then...”

“Then?” David echos, raising his eyebrows.

“Then glee club,” Kurt says simply. “Glee club and football and new friends and suddenly... I felt a little... braver,” he finishes with a smile, turning to Blaine. Blaine grins back. “And for a long time, my dad was all I had, and I didn't want to lose him, but... I didn't want to hide who I was any more.”

“I'm glad you told me,” Burt says, reaching over to pat Kurt's hand. “I think we've done okay, you and me.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says with a smile, “we have.”

“What --” Blaine starts and then stops, swallowing. The look on David's face makes him _want_ to ask but his own insecurities keep holding him back. “You're really supportive,” he says a little awkwardly, trying to avoid Burt's piercing gaze. “But you didn't have to be --”

“Yeah,” Burt says, “I did.” Kurt opens his mouth to say something but his father shakes his head. “No, listen. Maybe I didn't _have_ to be. I could've taken the opposite view. I could've kicked him out. I could've done a lot of things. But Kurt pointed out that for a long time, we were all each other had. He's my _son_. And at the end of the day, that's what makes this okay. This is who he is and I want him to be happy. And this,” he says, pausing slightly to look at Blaine, “you, that's what makes him happy.”

“Your dad's so smart,” Brittany says, staring at Burt dreamily. “He should join the Braniacs.”

Santana barks out a laugh but it's much more tender than the last time; Blaine develops more affection for Brittany. Kurt smiles but straightens a little. “Anyone else?” Blaine's fingers itch against his pants but he can't bring himself to answer Kurt's request. Kurt turns slightly to meet his eyes, and it's that goddamn _blue_ that breaks him.

“I came out when I was fourteen,” he says before he can stop himself. Kurt exhales, and Blaine fights to keep going. “I wasn't a student at Dalton then. And it wasn't... it wasn't great. Most of the kids at school were pretty... harsh. Ignorant,” he clarifies.

“What about your parents?” Santana asks quietly.

“My mom's okay,” he allows. “But she's -- that's more of a credit to the fact that she's my mom than anything else.”

“What about --” David hesitates, trying to gauge Blaine's reaction. “What about your dad? Is he like--” He nods toward Burt.

“No,” Blaine says flatly, and his tone makes it clear that he's done discussing the subject. Kurt scoots closer and nestles his head against Blaine's shoulder.

“Look, I don't --” Burt starts to speak but stops for a moment to collect himself, his gaze lingering on Blaine. “I don't know what the situation is with all of you,” he says, gesturing around. “And if you want to share or keep it to yourself -- that's your business. But I understand what Kurt's trying to do here. He's trying to provide the same environment we have at home. You're safe here.”

“I --” The entire group turns to look at Santana, who promptly turns into a deer caught in the headlights. “Kurt, can I ask you something? About Quinn?”

“Quinn?” Kurt repeats, raising his eyebrows. “Santana, I don't think Quinn's --”

“ _No_ ,” Santana cuts off, exasperated, “god, I know Quinn's not a lesbo. But she's religious,” she emphasizes. “Her whole family is. Her mom and her douchebag of a dad --”

“What's a douche bag?” Brittany pipes in. “Is that like a special kind of bag? Is Douche a designer?”

“What's the question, Santana?” Kurt says, ignoring Brittany's question.

“How do you think her mom would react? You know, if she _were_.”

“I... I honestly don't know,” Kurt sighs. “I don't really know her mom. You do, though, Santana.”

“Well, yeah,” Santana mumbles. “She's a lot like mine.”

“Your mom likes me,” Brittany says. “She lets me come over all the time.”

“She hardly ever notices you're there,” Santana argues. “She doesn't care what I do, mostly. But...”

“If she knew,” Blaine finishes for her, “you don't think she'd be that great about it?”

Santana shakes her head and Brittany's shoulders sag. “You don't think she'd like me anymore?”

“It's not you, Brit-Brit,” Santana rushes to explain. “She'd be more... I don't know. Something. She's be more whatever with me.”

“Abrasive?” Blaine offers. “Disappointed?”

“Daddy issues?” Santana snaps defensively.

“Mommy issues?” Blaine bites back.

“Guys,” Kurt says loudly. “Stop.”

“Maybe I should just adopt everyone,” Burt mumbles. Kurt blinks, turns to look at him, and bursts out laughing. “What?” he says defensively. “It'd solve a lot of problems!”

“Yeah,” Kurt laughs. “All that money we saved on tuition just goes to take care of a bunch of new kids.”

“Wait, so are we being adopted?” Brittany asks. “Oh! Is that what the 'P' is for? Parent? We come here to get new parents? Because I think mine are missing. I haven't seen them in three days --”

“No,” Kurt says gently, still laughing. “But if we were adopting people, we'd have to leave Blaine out, unfortunately.”

“Not a fan of incest?” Santana drawls, cocking an eyebrow.

“Okay,” Burt says loudly. “I think we're probably done, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees, flushing. “I'd like to stay Kurt's boyfriend. I'll leave the brother thing to Finn.”

“Hey,” Burt says, nudging Kurt with his elbow. “Why isn't your brother here?”

“I hadn't thought about inviting him,” Kurt answers honestly. “But I'll mention it and see if he wants to come.” Santana bites her lip but shakes with silent laughter; Kurt rolls his eyes. “Okay, yeah. We're done.”

Santana is ready to leave almost immediately but Brittany lingers behind, hugging both Kurt and Blaine and saving Burt for last, squeezing him tight. “Will you be back next time?”

Burt looks over at Kurt, who merely smiles. “Sure,” he says.

“Awesome,” Brittany gushes. “I'll bring you another card. I just have to get another bottle of paste. I think my little brother ate the last of it --”

“Let's go, Brit,” Santana laughs, tugging her hand. And for the second time in two weeks, they leave the room holding hands.

David shuffles awkwardly after the girls leave, toeing at the floor. “You need something, kid?” Burt asks.

“No,” David says quickly. “No, I just... Thanks. You know, for showing up.”

Burt raises an eyebrow. “No problem. I guess I should say the same to you. It's uh, it's pretty cool that you showed up.” Both Kurt and David fidget uncomfortably, and David doesn't linger much longer before leaving. “Success?” Burt asks, turning to Kurt.

“I think so,” Kurt sighs. “Are you really coming to the next meeting?”

“Yeah,” Burt says. “I think it's good for these kids. And I think you can get more people to show up, like Finn --”

“I want to,” Kurt insists. “I want more people to come, but... can we wait a little before we ask Finn, or anyone else?”

“Okay,” Burt says slowly. “Any reason why?”

Kurt colors and Blaine wraps a hand around Kurt's elbow. “I'm just... I'm afraid that the more people there are, the less people will want to share. And I think that's important, at least at the beginning. At least right now.”

Burt smiles and rubs Kurt's shoulder for a minute. “Okay. I'll meet you down at the car?”

“Um, actually,” Kurt says, looking at Blaine, “is it okay if Blaine takes me home?”

“Sure,” Burt agrees. “Just be home by eleven-thirty, okay? It's a school night.” The second Burt's around the corner, Blaine tugs Kurt into a fierce kiss, lips moving without the care of their first but with just as much eagerness. “Can you at least wait until I'm down the hall?” Burt calls out. Kurt breaks the kiss to laugh against Blaine's shoulder, but the second the outside door slams shut, Blaine's lips find Kurt's again.

“Wow,” Kurt breathes between kisses. “What's gotten into you?”

“You're amazing,” Blaine mumbles against Kurt's lips. “You're just... amazing.”

Kurt pulls back even as Blaine whines a protest, and gives Blaine a once over. He seems to give Blaine's words some thought and realizes... _something_ , Blaine's not sure what. “How about you help me finish cleaning up?” Kurt suggests. “And then we can continue this in your car.”

“Deal,” Blaine says eagerly, tripping over one of the folding chairs in his haste to meet the first end of the bargain.


	4. Meeting Four

**18 October 2011: Meeting Four**

“Here,” Santana says, setting down a pink cardboard box on the table with an unceremonious _thump._

“And that is?” Kurt prompts.

“It's a newborn puppy,” Santana quips wryly.

“Oh my god, _really_?” Blaine says excitedly, reaching for the box. Kurt bats his hand away and rolls his eyes.

“They're cookies,” Santana laughs. “For the snack table. I think you've already got enough puppy on your hands, Hummel.”

“Hey!” Blaine whines defensively.

“Shh,” Kurt soothes, patting his head. “Thank you, Santana. This is nice.” Santana _hmms_ in response.

“That's my cat, Lord Tubbington,” Brittany says from across the room. She and Burt are bent over a colored construction paper card. “But I didn't use glitter on that part of the card because he's allergic --”

“What's the plan, Handerson?” Santana asks. “More feelings? We all moving in with the Humdels? Do we finally get to see you two get it on?”

“No -- Blaine, stop it,” Kurt chastises, batting Blaine's hand away from the pink box. “And take off the blazer. Stay a while,” he quips dryly.

“I just want a cookie,” Blaine grumbles. “And you _love_ the blazer.”

Kurt opens his mouth to snap back but Santana beats him to it. “He likes it better off, Sprinkles.”

“Oh my god, _go_ , Santana,” Kurt says, coloring and pushing Santana over to Burt and Brittany.

“Do you like it better off?” Blaine murmurs once Santana's out of earshot.

The color on Kurt's cheeks brightens as he opens the box of cookies. “I think the answer to that is fairly obvious,” he murmurs back, fingers brushing against Blaine's. “Or was that not clear when I practically ripped it off of you in your car last week?”

“Kurt,” Blaine whines. “Don't do this to me here. There are _people_.”

Kurt turns and grins at him, running his fingers up the sleeve of Blaine's Dalton blazer, when a new set of footsteps causes them to look to the doorway. “Unbelievable,” Kurt breathes. “Un-freaking-believable.”

“Who is that?” Blaine whispers.

“His _dad_ ,” Kurt hisses. “He brought his _dad_.”

“Isn't that a good thing, though?” Blaine suggests. “I think he's taking this seriously.”

“He must be,” Kurt agrees. “I've met his dad twice and he's a decent guy but Dave's _totally_ different around him.”

“Hey,” Burt greets, depositing Brittany with Santana and making his way to the Karofskys. “Paul, right?”

“Yeah, good to see you again, Burt,” Paul Karofsky says, shaking Burt's hand. “David said you'd be here.”

“Figured it was good for the kids,” Burt says with a shrug. “Seems to be doing them some good.”

“Why don't we start?” Kurt says suddenly, and it's then that Blaine notices David standing uncomfortably between the two fathers. “I know we all pretty much know each other,” Kurt begins, “but for the benefit of our newest member, why don't we reintroduce ourselves?” When Blaine introduces himself, Paul Karofsky's eyes linger on him a little, brow furrowed as his mind works out the connection.

“Kurt?” Santana says, slouching in her chair as Brittany's hand rubs absently on her thigh. “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends on what it is,” Kurt replies carefully.

“No sex questions,” she promises with a laugh. “At least not right now.” Kurt waves her on. “Does it bother you that you couldn't really stay in the closet?”

“Kurt lives in a closet?” Brittany asks, aghast. “Mr. Hummel, why --”

“I don't live in a closet, Brittany,” Kurt assures her.

“But you used to live in a basement,” she says.

“I did,” Kurt says, fighting back a laugh. “But it's okay. I have my own room and- off topic. It did, at first,” he says, answering Santana's question. “But the more comfortable I became with myself, the easier it got. And I'd rather be out than in,” he says resolutely. “I'm not ashamed of who I am.”

“There's nothing wrong with who you are,” Burt affirms, clapping him on the back. Kurt smiles at him.

“Were all of your parents this, uh... accepting?” Paul asks hesitantly.

Brittany merely shrugs, but Santana's the first to answer. “They don't really know,” she says indifferently. “But I think they have an idea, now that Brit's over more often. And once they find out --”

“Or you tell them,” Kurt interjects.

“Whatever,” Santana says dismissively. “The point is, I think it's gonna be about fifty-fifty. Until it happens, I don't really think about it that much.”

“You're Santana,” Paul says slowly. “You're David's ex-girlfriend.”

David, surprisingly, blushes and shifts down in his seat, staring down at the floor. “Yeah,” she laughs. “That was... interesting.”

“So you and... Brittany? You're --”

“Unofficially official,” Santana says firmly. “What's said here stays here, right?”

“Right,” Kurt affirms.

“But it's okay,” Brittany says happily. “I wanted Santana to tell the school about it last year, but now we come here and she holds my hand in a safe place. So it's okay right now.” Blaine looks at Kurt and smiles. “And I dated Kurt,” she adds as an afterthought. “Except not really because he's a dolphin --”

“She means gay,” Kurt explains for Paul's benefit. “Was that all, Santana?”

“For now,” she resigns with a mischievous grin.

“I have a question,” David says quietly. “For Anderson, if he's up for it.” Blaine meets David's gaze for a few long, awkward moments, before finally nodding. “Last time, you said you dad wasn't...” Blaine stiffens immediately, straightening in his chair. Kurt reaches over to take his hand, and Burt looks like he's resisting the urge to come and sit next to him. “Look, you don't have to answer it, I just --”

“Just ask,” Blaine grits out.

“Blaine,” Kurt says softly, “you don't have to --”

“I should,” he says bitterly. “It's probably good for me, right? To talk about it?”

“Yes,” Burt stresses, “it is.”

After a moment of silence, David takes the invitation. “Do you know _why_ he's not okay with it? Like, what does he... What does he say? What does he do?”

Blaine's mouth twitches unpleasantly. “He ignores it, most of the time.”

“Wait,” Santana cuts in. “How does he just _ignore it_? You're like, the most out person I know. Well, you and your boy.” Blaine can practically feel Kurt grinning next to him at the endearment.

“We just don't talk about it,” Blaine shrugs. “I don't bring it up, he doesn't ask.”

“So what happens when it does come up?” Santana questions. “Like, if you say you're going on a date with Kurt? How does that work?”

“He tells me to be back by curfew. That's about it.”

Santana shakes her head. “I don't get it. Does it bother you that you can't really talk about it with him, or --”

“Sort of?” Blaine sighs. “It's more that I think he thinks it's a phase, more than anything else. That's what bothers me. Like, he just refuses to accept it. He thinks I can change.”

“ _Whoa_ ,” Santana breathes. “That blows.” Kurt narrows his eyes at her and she claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, no. No pun intended, I swear.”

“Is that why you get along with Kurt's dad?” Brittany asks innocently. “Because he's okay with you guys being gay?”

“Partly, yeah,” Blaine says uncomfortably, rubbing at the back of his neck. He really wishes he'd taken off the blazer, now.

“Hey,” Burt says gently, reaching over Kurt to rest a hand over Blaine's. “It's not wrong to want a parent who supports you and accepts you for who you are.”

“Yeah,” Blaine breathes, his eyes watering. “I know.” There's a moment where they meet each others' eyes and Blaine can feel everyone staring at them but he doesn't care because right now he _needs_ this. Kurt shifts and wriggles his fingers to take his father's place on Blaine's hand and the gaze is broken, the moment gone; Blaine settles back into his chair, coloring, and happens to catch David's eyes for a split second --

“Dad?” David's voice is barely above a whisper but it's enough to catch Paul's attention and to mesmerize Blaine who can almost sense what's about to happen but absolutely does not believe it. Paul Karofsky turns to look at his son expectantly, and then two words are falling breathlessly from David's lips before he or anyone else can stop them: “ _I'm gay_.”

The room is eerily silent as Paul Karofsky blinks once and says, “You're --”

“Gay,” David breathes again immediately, almost as if he can't help it.

“But,” Paul says, obviously confused, “you dated San --”

“He's _dated_ a lot of people,” Santana says, a little cold. “That doesn't mean anything. Believe me, I would know.”

Paul turns back to his son. “Is that why you wanted me to come here with you?” he asks slowly.

David opens his mouth to respond but finally seems to be at a loss for words; he exhales shakily and Burt clears his throat. “Maybe we should step outside for a minute.”

“Yeah,” Blaine chokes out. “That -- yeah.” He tugs at Kurt's arm but his boyfriend remains rooted to his chair, staring disbelievingly at David. “Kurt?”

Kurt blinks, shakes his head, and allows Blaine to tug him up. “No, no, of course,” he babbles, obviously flustered. But as they leave the circle, it's Blaine whose hand brushes over David's shoulder in a silent promise: _you're not alone._

Once the door shuts and the five of them are in the hallway, Burt wheels around on Kurt. “You knew,” he says, half-accusingly.

“Dad, please, just -- _don't_ , okay? Don't get upset right now because I can't handle you having another heart attack when I am ready to puke my guts out, _ohmygod_ ,” Kurt says in a rush.

“Chill, Hummel,” Santana says as means of trying to be helpful. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. Boy couldn't keep his leering in check. That's how I found out, the way he was checking out Sam's ass --”

“ _Sam_?” Kurt says incredulously. “He was checking out -- _ohmygod_ , I swear I'm going to puke, just everywhere.”

“There's a vending machine on the floor below, right?” Burt asks Blaine. Blaine nods in affirmation, and Burt claps a hand to Kurt's shoulder. “I'm gonna see if they have any crackers or ginger ale or something, okay? But we need to talk about this.”

“Later,” Kurt says, waving a hand at him.

“Brit and I are gonna walk around,” Santana informs them. “Text when it's cool to come back.”

Kurt slides to the floor against the wall and pulls his knees up to his chest; Blaine imitates him. “I just can't believe he did that,” Kurt babbles. “I can't believe he did that.”

“I can't either,” Blaine sighs.

“It's just -- after a _year_ , he just up and _says it_ , just like that.” Kurt shakes his head wildly. “I just don't get it.”

“That was probably my fault,” Blaine admits slowly. “I think he was feeling something out, testing the waters when he asked about my dad... And then he saw me with _your_ dad, and...”

“What, saw the light?” Kurt says icily. “He realized that his dad is actually a decent person and it'd be _okay_ to come out to him?”

“I think he felt guilty,” Blaine clarifies. “And at least this proves it's not his dad he's been afraid of. It's just --”

“Everyone else,” Kurt finishes with a groan.

“Why are you so upset?” Blaine asks, rubbing at the back of Kurt's neck. “I understand being surprised by it but you seem... angry.”

“I'm not,” Kurt sighs. “Well, I am. But I'm not. It's just -- I lied for him, okay? I lied to my dad for him.”

“And you feel like now that was unnecessary.” Kurt nods and Blaine sighs. “He needed the time,” Blaine says gently. “He needed the time and these meetings and --”

“To be educated,” Kurt finishes. He exhales slowly and leans against Blaine, closing his eyes.

“I could only find water,” Burt's voice announces a minute later. “I hope that's okay.” Kurt nods appreciatively and takes the bottle from his father. Burt settles on the floor next to them.

“I don't believe in outing,” Kurt says firmly the second his father is settled down next to him. “It wasn't my secret to tell.”

“But you knew,” Burt says again, surveying Kurt's face. “You knew and that was why he threatened you.”

“Yes,” Kurt says shortly.

“How?” Kurt looks at him blankly. “How did you know?”

Kurt swallows thickly and Blaine sees his eyes start to water; he tugs Kurt closer. “Please don't make me answer that,” Kurt breathes.

“Kurt,” Burt says warningly.

“Please don't make him answer that,” Blaine parrots weakly.

“Wait, you knew too?” Burt both looks and sounds a little angrier now and _fuck_ , this is not a good time to get on his boyfriend's dad's bad side. Well, it's never a good time, but especially not now.

“Not my secret to tell,” Blaine says, echoing Kurt's words.

“When someone threatens your _life_ \--” Burt starts.

“Then you don't out them and you transfer to a private school and get a boyfriend,” Kurt recites, trying to lighten the mood. The corner of Blaine's mouth twitches upward but Burt isn't deterred. “Dad, just drop it, okay? It's ancient history.”

Burt looks like he's about to protest but the girls walk back up at the same time that the board room door opens. The seven of them convene in the hallway in awkward silence; it's Paul who breaks it. “David and I are going to grab a bite to eat and talk some more,” he announces. He hesitates as David shifts awkwardly next to him, and then looks down at Kurt on the floor. “But, uh, two weeks, same time?” Kurt merely nods, trying to maintain polite eye contact with Mr. Karofsky but failing miserably; his eyes keep darting to David, who steadfastly refuses to look at anything other than the floor.

Burt pushes himself to his feet and Paul moves forward to shake his hand. It's then that David finally says something. “Anderson,” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth. Blaine looks up at him expectantly but knows what David's going to say before he even opens his mouth. David's eyes catch Kurt's for a brief moment, and whatever nerve he'd built up is mostly gone after that because he merely mouths 'thanks' to Blaine before following his father down the hallway.

Blaine rubs his temple with his fingers and sighs loudly. Brittany nudges him with her foot. “Yeah, Brit?” he mumbles into his hands.

“Do you want a cookie, Blaine?” she offers kindly.

“I'd _love_ one,” he laughs. She returns a moment later with a pink-frosted and sprinkle-coated sugar cookie. “Thanks,” he says, leaning up to kiss her cheek.

“Lips off my girl,” Santana snaps, but she's mostly teasing and offers them a smile. “We should probably go.”

Burt looks down at the boys for a moment before sighing and shrugging on his jacket. “Okay, Blaine, you can bring him home,” Burt allows, “but if something like this comes up again --”

“We'll be smart about it,” Blaine promises, squeezing Kurt's hand. When the outside door clicks shut again and they're alone, Blaine turns his attention back to Kurt. “Hey,” he says gently. “You okay?”

“I will be,” Kurt huffs out, curling up into Blaine's side.

“I know you're upset, but... what he did in there was actually pretty brave,” Blaine points out.

“Yeah,” Kurt concedes. “I guess it was.”

“I envy that.” Kurt tilts his head up to look at Blaine quizzically; Blaine inhales sharply. “I wish I were that brave.”

Kurt smiles softly and stretches up to kiss Blaine's jaw. “You are,” he placates.

“No,” Blaine disagrees. “I'm not. But I could be.”

“So what are you saying?” Kurt asks, righting himself.

“I'm saying,” Blaine says slowly, finally shrugging off his Dalton blazer, “that it's time for me to stop running.”


	5. Meeting Five

**1 November 2011: Meeting Five**

“I'm sorry I'm late,” Blaine says breathlessly as he skids into the room. “I had to go home and shower and change --”

“It's okay,” Kurt says with an affectionate smile, waving him over to the information table. “I didn't want to start without you.” When Blaine leans in to kiss his cheek, Kurt lowers his voice and adds, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Blaine shrugs off. “The shower helped, I'm not gonna lie.”

“It usually does,” Kurt says with a grin. “Sometimes it helps to take a double.”

“I washed my hair three times,” Blaine groans. “And I'm still paranoid that there are chunks of ice in it.”

“Hmm, well let's see,” Kurt muses, reaching up and carding his fingers through Blaine's now gel-free hair. Blaine leans into the touch, breath hitching, and Kurt smirks. “I think you're good to go.”

“Double check,” Blaine hums, forcing his scalp back under Kurt's fingers.

“No,” Kurt laughs, pushing him away. “You're just going to give Santana more reason to call you a puppy. She's going to get you a collar and a leash and it's only going to go downhill from there --”

“Oh god,” Blaine groans, blanching. “No, no. Just stop. Don't let her --”

“Don't let me what?” Santana cuts in, picking a pamphlet up off of the table disinterestedly.

“Nothing,” Blaine says, too quickly.

She glances up at him, quirking an eyebrow, before she tosses the pamphlet back down and smirks at him. “Were you talking about _sex_?” she drawls, half laughing.

“No,” Kurt deadpans, pushing her back toward the circle. “Let's start the meeting.”

“So what are we talking about?” Brittany asks brightly as their group of seven takes their seats.

“Sex!” Santana proclaims, grinning from ear to ear. Blaine groans.

“ _No_ ,” Kurt says forcefully. “If anyone has a legitimate reason to talk about sex, fine. But we are not talking about sex just so you can make people uncomfortable, Santana. We've already had that meeting, remember?”

“Spoil sport,” Santana grumbles.

“Actually,” Paul pipes up, “I had a question for you, Burt, if you're okay with that.”

“Sure,” Burt allows, settling into his chair comfortably.

“How did you deal with... with your son coming out?” he asks hesitantly. David shrinks back into his chair until Blaine throws an empathetic glance his way. “Did you talk to anyone about it? What did you do when he started bringing boys home?”

Burt's quiet for a long moment and Kurt shifts uncomfortably, staring down at his hands. “About a month after Kurt told me he was gay,” Burt starts quietly, “these idiots started calling the garage, saying he was --” Burt's jaw sets firmly and his fist clenches in anger.

“Dad,” Kurt says softly, reaching out to take his father's hand. “Dad, it's okay.”

“No,” Burt grits out. “No, it's not. It wasn't okay then and it's not okay now.”

“Dad, please calm down,” Kurt urges.

Blaine can hear the pleading tone in Kurt's voice and watches as slowly, Burt's fists relax under his son's touch. Exhaling slowly, Burt continues, “There were anonymous calls telling me my son was a fag.”

“Oh _hell_ no,” Santana says, sitting up straight.

“You weren't any better,” Kurt points out, “back then. You made gay jokes right up until I met Blaine.”

“Why does everyone think Dalton's a gay school?” Blaine asks incredulously, throwing his hands up.

“Isn't your mascot a dolphin?” Brittany asks.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Santana laughs, “especially when you take into account the fact that their glee club is called the _Warblers_ after a bunch of _birds_.”

“Harsh,” Blaine says, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. But Santana understands what he's actually commenting on -- namely, her inadvertently making fun of her own girlfriend -- and pales a little.

“There are fish that are birds,” Brittany argues. “Like a flying fish, right? Or a penguin --”

Kurt's mouth twists on the word _penguin_ and Blaine takes notice; subtly, he reaches over and traces his fingers over the nape of Kurt's neck, leaning in and murmuring quietly, “Not a penguin.”

“Sorry, Dad,” David apologizes sheepishly. “It's... kind of hard to keep focus in here sometimes.”

“It's okay,” Paul says. “I just -- I'm sorry you both had to go through that.”

“My dad would bend over backwards for me,” Kurt says fiercely. “And I'd do the same for him.”

“He screwed up an audition on purpose when he found out people had been calling,” Burt reminisces fondly, looking over at Kurt. “Kurt's a smart kid. He knew that when stuff like that happens -- the name calling and the dumpster tosses and the hate -- it didn't just affect him. It affected me too. It hurt us both.”

“Do you need a Band-Aid?” Brittany offers kindly. David actually smiles at her.

“No,” Burt says, smiling too. “But I'll tell you what, Brittany. Next time something happens to make us upset, I'll have Kurt give you a call and you can make another one of those cards, how's that?”

“Okay,” Brittany agrees enthusiastically.

“To answer the second part of your question,” Burt says, readdressing Paul, “Blaine here's the only guy Kurt's brought home, and they were friends long before they started dating, so it wasn't... It wasn't that weird, I guess. I already kind of knew him. I knew he was -- is -- a good kid. I knew Kurt was crazy about him. And I think that's all I needed to know.”

Blaine beams at Burt. “But it's different, isn't it?” Paul presses. “There's a difference between knowing that your son is gay and actually _seeing_ it.” He looks over at his son imploringly and David's eyes widen. Blaine thinks he understands the fear behind David's eyes; for him, actually _being_ with another guy isn't a possibility on a near horizon. The mere thought is still terrifying.

“You mean seeing him act on it,” Burt clarifies. “Kurt's given me grief for that; I learned my lesson. But yeah, you're right,” Burt concedes. “They're usually pretty good about keeping the PDA to a minimum around other people, but that might just be a precaution they take because of the idiots who live in this cow town.”

Blaine squirms uncomfortably and Kurt reaches over to take his hand, brushing their knees together. “Have --” Paul hesitates, clearly afraid of overstepping, but Burt waves him on. “You don't have to answer this, but... how did you talk to him about sex?”

There's an awkward pause before Burt says, “There's a free clinic down on South Main where you can get some pamphlets, if you're interested.” Kurt and Blaine both feel heat rise to their faces. “They're very... illuminating,” Burt shares, obviously choosing his words carefully.

“Yes, very helpful,” Kurt pipes up quietly, and Blaine has to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“So wait,” Paul says, glancing around at the group of them. “All of you are... sexually active?”

“Yeah,” Brittany says indifferently, shrugging her shoulders. Her honesty doesn't seem to faze Santana.

Kurt shifts uncomfortably. “I don't really feel all that comfortable answering that in front of my dad, regardless of what the answer actually is.”

“Kurt,” Burt cuts in, and Blaine sees him trying to fight back a smile. “If you want to keep your business private, that's fine. But we've talked about this.”

Blaine refuses to meet Burt's gaze, he won't, he won't. Burt probably knows that things are heating up between them but Blaine's still essentially the one _devirginizing his son_. Kurt does meet his father's gaze though, steady and calculating, before sighing, nodding stiffly in Mr. Karofsky's direction.

“Intimate,” Blaine blurts out, and _fuck_ , okay, he didn't mean for that to come out but now he can't seem to stop babbling and he can feel the color rising to his face. Kurt just looks amused, and Blaine kind of wants to smack him a little because seriously, what a role reversal. “We've been... intimate, but we haven't...” Blaine figures he doesn't need to finish that sentence to get the message across.

Santana starts snickering and Blaine glares at her. “Taking it slow?” she chides. “I just -- honestly, you two are so Victorian and fairy-tale it's _nauseating_.”

“Your point, Satan?” Kurt drawls, annoyed.

“Pamphlets!” Mr. Karofsky coughs, and Santana doubles over in laughter. “Yes, I -- pamphlets. Sure. If -- if David wants --”

Mr. Karofsky looks to his son and Dave _blushes_ , bright red and obvious and he's mumbling incoherent words that no one can understand. But then he meets Kurt's eyes and there's a silent conversation that hangs in the air between them. Blaine watches with intrigue. “I -- okay,” David says at last. “To be... educated,” he says slowly, and Kurt offers him a genuine smile.

Well that's not weird or anything.

“I don't think --” Blaine starts. Paul looks over at him expectantly but Blaine shakes his head. “Nevermind. It's not my place to say anything; I'd be over-stepping --”

“Wouldn't be the first time,” Burt chides, grinning.

Blaine smiles weakly at him. “No, please,” Paul encourages. “I -- David had good things to say about you when we talked. You seem like a smart kid.”

“He is,” Burt affirms.

“Ooo, can we get _Blaine_ to join the Braniacs?” Brittany asks, bouncing in her chair.

“Ask him later, Brit,” Kurt placates.

“What were you going to say?” Paul asks.

Blaine hesitates, glancing over at David for a moment, before saying, “I was just going to say I don't think those are things you're going to have to worry about for a while,” he says with a shrug. “How to deal with everyone else when he comes out, bringing guys home, sex, things like that. I don't think your son plans on coming out to anyone other than you before graduation, at the very earliest.”

Paul blinks, confused, and turns to address his son. “You're not?” he asks.

“No,” David says firmly, “I'm not.”

“Oh,” Paul stammers, clearly flustered. There's a pause, and then, “Will you at least tell your mother?”

“Mr. Karofsky --” Kurt starts to warn.

“No, it's okay,” David cuts in, holding up a hand. “I want to tell Mom,” he admits to his father. “But I kind of want you there for that and I need some more time.”

“Okay,” Paul agrees simply. “If you want me there --”

“I _need_ you there,” David clarifies. “Please.”

The three other men watch the Karofskys with bright and fond interest for a moment before Brittany points out, “Blaine, you weren't wearing that in glee rehearsal today.”

“Hey,” Santana says slowly, “he wasn't. Did you go home and change? And _shower_?” she adds, eying his curly locks. “You look positively _wild_.”

“Leave him alone,” Kurt hisses. “I like his hair.”

“I got my first slushie facial today,” Blaine sighs, nipping the feud in the bud before it can begin.

David's eyes widen and Santana looks _furious_. “Who was it?” she demands. “I swear I will go _all_ Lima Heights Adjacent on their ass --”

“It doesn't matter,” Blaine says. “I knew what I signed up for when I transferred to McKinley last month.”

“That doesn't mean you should have to put up with stuff like this,” Burt points out gently.

“What flavor was it?” Brittany asks.

“Lime,” Blaine grimaces.

“Ooo,” Kurt shudders. “Harsh. Cherry's the worst, though. It always gets in your eyes and it just --”

“ _Burns_ ,” Blaine finishes. “Yeah, I got that despite the flavor.”

“I told you,” Kurt reminds him. “I did warn you that it was like being bitch-slapped by an iceberg.”

“Blue raspberry is my favorite,” Brittany says to no one in particular. “But it doesn't taste like raspberries. It just tastes like blue.”

“I bet you looked like the Hulk,” Santana muses with a smile.

“You know,” Blaine considers, smiling at her, “I think I'm going to infer that you're implying I looked buff. So I take that as a compliment.” Santana just laughs at him.

“Wait, what exactly are you talking about?” Paul asks.

“There's a um... hazing tactic,” David explains, flushing a dark crimson, “used by the jocks, mostly. They buy slushies and toss them in people's faces.”

Paul blinks and then narrows his eyes, shifting his gaze to Blaine. “And they did this because you're gay?”

“Maybe,” Blaine allows. “It might have been because I'm still fairly new. It might have been because I'm in glee club. I didn't take the time to stop and ask why they did it.”

“Were you with him?” Burt asks Kurt.

“No,” Kurt says, looking at Blaine apologetically. “But he texted me once he'd washed off his face and hands -- I offered to come and help him --”

“I told him to go home,” Blaine explains. “School was just out and he needed to come here to set up. I just went home and showered, you were right, Santana.”

“You kids should tell your principal about that kind of stuff,” Paul says with a frown.

“Figgins?” Burt snorts. “Figgins can barely keep the place from burning down, much less prevent hazing.”

“Well maybe we can make some noise,” Paul offers, and the fathers exchange a smile.

“I take it we're done here, then?” Kurt poses. The rest of the group agrees, and Blaine watches as the Hummels and Karofskys convene at the information table, a few less explicit pamphlets being handled between them.

“Hummel lost,” Santana gloats, sidling up to Blaine, who raises an eyebrow at her. “We talked about sex anyway.” Blaine blushes and tries to laugh it off, but Santana isn't fooled. “You boys need me to pick you up some things?” she teases. “Or if you're looking into toys, I've got a wide range of knowledge there --”

“Oh my god, Santana, no,” Blaine laughs, shoving against her shoulder playfully. “We're not planning anything --”

“Ooo, spontaneity for the win,” she gushes. “Just gonna wing it and lose yourself in the heat of the moment, then? You're so _scandalous_ \--”

“We've _talked_ about it,” Blaine says defensively, “but it's not like we set a date or anything --”

“Yeah, it's not like it's your wedding or anything,” she says sarcastically, but then she seems to realize what she's said and there's a very real, honest moment between them as she imperceptibly softens and then smiles a little. “You're gonna marry the fucking prom queen, aren't you?” she sighs.

Blaine flushes and tries to deflect. “We haven't even been together a year, Santana --”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says impatiently, waving a hand dismissively. “Look, the entire glee club knows you two are the most stable couple in our group. Well, you guys and Cohen-Chang-Chang. Brittany's all set to be a bridesmaid at _their_ wedding --”

“What about me?” Brittany asks, joining them.

“Santana was just saying you were going to be a bridesmaid at Mike and Tina's wedding,” Blaine explains, laughing a little.

“Oh, yeah, I am,” Brittany affirms brightly. “Why are we talking about that? Are you and Kurt getting married?”

“No --” Blaine starts.

“Oh yeah,” Santana says, cutting him off. Blaine glares at her but she just _smirks_ at him. “I'm totally gonna be his hag and everything. Right, Blainers?”

The non-offensive term of endearment catches Blaine off guard and he softens against his will; he smiles a little and shrugs. “We'll see.”

Blaine says goodbye to the girls as the Hummels say goodbye to the Karofksys; Burt follows a few minutes later, and then Kurt and Blaine are finally alone. “Was that okay?” Kurt asks timidly, settling into Blaine's embrace. “Talking about our -- well, I hesitate to say 'sex life' because --”

“Because we don't really have one yet?” Blaine finishes. “Tonight was fine; just... in the future, give a guy a little warning, yeah? Maybe we can set some boundaries as to what we keep to ourselves and what we share?” Kurt nods but his eyes look distant. “Hey, what's on your mind?”

“Just the next meeting,” Kurt sighs. “I think we're going to have at least three more people next time, and at some point, the entire glee club is going to end up in here and I just... I guess I'm just thinking about making this real, you know? Inviting guest speakers and whatnot.”

“Hey,” Blaine says gently, using his fingers to tilt Kurt's chin toward him. “This _is_ real. Think about how far we've all come in the last few months. You've done so much just by giving everyone a place to sit and talk things out. You don't have to mess with that.”

Kurt smiles. “I'll tell you what,” Kurt poses. “To make up for the awfulness of your first slushie facial, why don't I take you out this weekend? My treat.”

“Wait,” Blaine counters, laughing, “no. I was going to ask _you_ out this weekend.”

“You don't have to _ask_ , Blaine,” Kurt says with a roll of his eyes. “I think we're past that point. I think you can just assume that if you want to take me out on a date, I'm going to say yes.”

“That's not what I meant,” Blaine pouts. “I meant for our anniversary.”

Kurt blinks. “Our anniversary is in _March_ , Blaine. It's _November_.”

“No, not that one,” Blaine says distractedly. “We met on November fourth --”

Kurt meets his gaze, eyes shining, and then _launches_ himself at Blaine, lips crashing together clumsily. Blaine yelps in surprise but kisses back eagerly, hands finding the small of Kurt's back. Kurt inhales sharply, and after a moment, he pulls away, blinking rapidly. “You smell like soap,” Kurt says stupidly.

Blaine laughs. “Yeah, well, I took the equivalent of three showers,” he reminds his boyfriend. “I smell like soap but I'm slushie free, right?”

Kurt starts to nod but his eyes fall to Blaine's neck, narrowing. “You missed a spot,” he says, his voice suddenly rough, low. And before Blaine can respond, he ducks his head down, pressing his lips against a faint patch of green skin just below Blaine's earlobe. “Right... here,” Kurt breathes, tonguing at the spot.

“Kur-- nngghh,” Blaine moans, backing into a table. “Kurt, not here --”

“Yes, here,” Kurt argues. “You don't have dye anywhere else.”

“No, I meant -- _oh_ ,” he breathes, fighting not to arch into Kurt's embrace. “I meant here, in the board room. I don't want to _start _our sex life here.”__

__“So what, you want me to drag you down into the back seat of your car?” Kurt says wryly, sucking at the spot a little._ _

__“ _Jesus_ ,” Blaine hisses, tightening his grip on Kurt's hips. “No, not in the back seat of my car either,” he grits out, fighting to keep his hips angled away from Kurt's because his pants are starting to get seriously tight --_ _

__“Blaine,” Kurt complains, “can you just shut up and let me kiss you?”_ _

__“I'm pretty sure you're giving me a hickey --” Blaine argues, though he doesn't know _why_ he's arguing because Kurt's lips on his neck are _magical_ \--_ _

__Kurt huffs out in annoyance and lifts his head from Blaine's neck despite Blaine's whine of protest. He pulls away a little and ignores Blaine's brief expression of disappointment, readjusting his hips and --_ _

__“ _Fuck, Kurt_ ,” Blaine grits out, tugging at the back of Kurt's neck to pull him in for a real kiss. Their lips meet in a frenzy, wet and warm and swollen as they press and suck against each other fervently. Kurt's the first to take it further, gently rocking his hip against Blaine's, and it's all Blaine can do to let out a simple goddamn _groan_ before he rocks back, one of his hands reaching back to grip blindly at the edge of the table. Kurt's lips detach from his and go back to tonguing the spot on his neck even though the green is long gone, and Blaine is just _panting_ with desire --_ _

__“I thought you were a dolphin.”_ _

__Both boys jerk slightly, startled, but Kurt recovers quickly, adjusting his stance to hide their ridiculously blatant hard-ons from Brittany. “What's that, Brit?” Kurt asks, fighting to keep his voice calm but failing miserably. Blaine tucks his face into Kurt's shoulder, unable to meet Brittany's gaze quite yet._ _

__“You're dolphins,” Brittany says, cocking her head to the side. “But you were just licking him, which is something cats do. Lord Tubbington does it when he needs a bath. I thought Blaine already took a shower --”_ _

__“He missed a spot,” Kurt says nonchalantly, trying not to laugh._ _

__“Oh,” Brittany says simply. “Okay then.”_ _

__“What, um, what are you doing back here, Brittany?” Blaine asks shakily, chancing a glance at her._ _

__“I left my sweater behind,” she explains, holding up the cardigan in her hand. “And I was going to ask if I could take home more cheese for Lord Tubbington, but...” She tapers off and gestures down at Blaine's hand._ _

__Both boys look down to find Blaine's hand smeared in an unidentifiable cheese, obviously a casualty of their recent erotic escapades. Kurt starts sniggering into Blaine's shoulder. “You little _shit_ ,” Blaine seethes, wiping his hand off on a napkin. “You gave me so much grief when this happened to you the first time!”_ _

__“But I see the appeal now,” Kurt laughs. “Oh, this is too funny.”_ _

__“That's it,” Blaine says firmly, pouting. “We are never bringing cheese to these meetings again.”_ _

__“Will you at least bring the cheese for me?” Brittany asks hopefully._ _

__“For you,” Blaine allows. “But we're not laying it out on the table.”_ _

__“That's fine,” Kurt grins as Brittany waves goodbye. “As long as we keep having the meetings.”_ _

__“I don't think we could get out of them even if we wanted to,” Blaine points out, allowing Kurt to tug him back into his arms._ _

__“Probably not,” Kurt agrees, smiling at Blaine fondly and brushing a stray lock from his forehead._ _

__“I'd be okay with the meetings ending like this, though,” Blaine admits, grinning._ _

__“I think that can be arranged,” Kurt breathes, leaning in for another kiss._ _


End file.
